Story:Kings of Strife/Part 10
Part Ten The captain was standing near the railing of the ship, looking at Vik with wide eyes and fear on his face. He said nothing, only offering his hand to help Vik up the gangplank to the ship. The Nneonian soldier tried to speak and explain himself, but no sound would escape his throat, and he was overwhelmed with shivers. All Vik managed to do was hand a wad of dolarov to the captain and stumble into his cabin before passing out completely. He awoke in the bed of his cabin, three days later. Awoke was not the correct word – it was not as if he rose from a sleeping state or even experienced any grogginess. Vik sat up in his bed without any pain or exhaustion at all, as if he had been reborn. “It’s been three days. Welcome back.” As expected, Hasey Troblum was sitting on a stool by the door. The boy was wearing the same clothes as before, and was staring at Vik from beneath the bangs of his midnight blue hair. Like never before, his eyes seemed wide, unsettling, and unsuitably mature. ‘Wait.’ Vik racked his brain and looked from Hasey down to his body. As he sat up, the blankets covering him had slipped downward, and the soldier caught a glimpse of his exposed body. He was shirtless, and bandages wrapped around his left hand and his forehead. He was up leaning on his hands. He was feeling no pain. ‘How is this possible? I saw my hand get crushed – I felt every bone break.’ He raised his hand in front of his face and unwrapped the bloody gauze bandages around his phalanges, but beneath them he only saw a normal hand, if not a little paler in coloration than usual. He flexed his fingers and made a fist. There was no loss of dexterity at all. It was as if he had never been hurt in the first place… but that was impossible. Another realization came sluggishly to Vik’s attention. He pulled the bandages off his head absently and looked up towards the guest in his cabin. He had escaped the North Norzavi village and the Black Knight, somehow – but he had not rescued his companion or even saw him off. If anything, he had seen his traveling partner rush off into the village, and considering the fact that Vik escaped, it was almost certain that Hasey met his doom in the icy loneliness of North Norzaven. So how was that very boy sitting in Vik’s cabin, unharmed and nonchalant? “That wound left a scar, I see. It must have been particularly vicious.” Noticing Hasey’s statement, Vik felt over his left eyebrow, where his skull had been split open by the attack of the Black Knight. At least, the pain felt like his skull had been split open. But now, there was no pain and no sign of permanent damage, other than a slightly protruding scar that trailed from beside his eye to across his brow, parallel to his eyebrow. That was all that remained of an almost fatal encounter. “I’m healed.” Vik finally spoke out of incredulance. Hasey nodded. “You are. That’s the fastest I’ve ever seen anyone recover from wounds such as yours, even if you did sleep for three days straight.” Vik looked back at the skinny boy. Hasey was still wearing his fur coat. “You’re alive.” Again, he spoke a simple statement out of sheer incredulence. Nothing he was seeing made any sense. Another nod from Hasey. “Yes, and so are you. We’ve been blessed, I think.” “What’s going on? What happened to you? What happened to what you were looking for in Cradle?” Hasey pursed his lips closed and crossed his arms. “I didn’t find it. But I have an idea where my next move is.” Vik’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion and he shook his head. “I can’t believe any of this… I need some answers here. What is going on?” The boy smiled and stood, taking off his fur coat as he did so. “It’s getting hot here, isn’t it?” After removing his coat, he sat down and smiled at Vik. “I’d love to tell you what I can, but I haven’t regained all of my memories just yet, so I’m afraid I don’t have the full picture anymore than you do.” For some reason, Vik thought for just a moment that Hasey was lying. He looked the boy with the lopsided smile in his eyes for a moment before responding to him. “Why did you go running off? Who were you chasing after?” “I thought I saw someone I know. The woman I was on Mount Gulg with. It was just a mirage, though – there was no one there. I didn’t realize how long I was chasing the vision, though, and when I looked behind me, you were gone. From where I was, I could see the village and I realized that you were right. It was completely empty. So I came back to the ship, only to see that you arrived a little bit before me.” Which part of that was a lie? Vik continued to stare the boy down. He had been trained to detect liars in his Herohji Squad training, years ago, but Hasey was giving no tell of treachery. Yet just by instinct, Vik didn’t believe what the boy was saying, almost as if the three days he spent unconscious had been enough to inform him of something he was previously ignorant of. He had never really trusted Hasey, but now he was wary of him. Too much was unexplained, but even so… To accuse someone of lying simply from instinct… ‘Instinct was what saved my life back in Cradle.’ “Where are we going now?” Vik asked. “The captain said he has to resupply, and a set of storms blocked our path back to Nneoh, so we’re going to Inusia’s east coast. We should be landing in Straits City within the next 24 hours.” ‘That’s odd,’ Vik thought to himself as he frowned. For a moment, he struggled to access his limited knowledge of Inusian geography. ‘The captain didn’t say anything about any storms blocking the way north. And if he needs supplies so badly, why go all the way to Straits City, on the southeast coast? Wouldn’t it have made more sense to land in South Norzaven, or somewhere on the northern Inusian coast?’ No matter how he looked at it, Vik couldn’t imagine the captain making such a decision. Unless… It was only with great self-control that Vik kept his eyes from widening or his forehead from sweating. He realized, in a split second, that he was still being lied to. The captain did not choose to go to Straits City; a tradition-loving Nneonian man like himself would never do such a thing. Hasey had to have told the captain where to go, and he had been staying here in Vik’s cabin to make sure this fact wasn’t shared with him first. Everything so far had been under Hasey’s control, Vik slowly began to see, and he was likely being strung around like a fool. From the convenient discovery of Hasey in Mount Gulg, to his convenient disappearance when the two arrived in Cradle, to the convenient arrival of the Black Knight – all of it was nonsensical at first, but made sense when one assumed Hasey had been behind all of it. And if the boy was working together with the Black Knight, there was no doubt about his true loyalties. Hasey Troblum was most an agent of Ouroboros. ‘Just what kind of trap have I fallen into?’ He swallowed and looked back up without allowing a hint of suspicion to grace his face anymore. Vik had to traverse carefully – if he really was being controlled and led around by Hasey, he could let out no indications that he knew about this. All he could do was keep bluffing; play along with the scheme and hopefully catch Hasey when he was off-guard, and use this opportunity to gain some clarity on just what he was being subjected to and who the boy’s leaders were. Who knew what would happen if the mysterious boy realized that his plan had been figured out? “So, we’re going to Straits City, in Inusia. Have you been there before?” The boy nodded conclusively. He had been eyeing Vik just as he had before, with unmoving and amused gray eyes, and didn’t appear to notice the clarity that the Nneonian had acquired. “Yes. It’s another base of the intelligence group I worked with, and it’s in a much more public place. I’ll be able to meet up with someone I know there for sure, and I should be safe again.” “I see… What a coincidence.” Vik nodded and feigned a proud smile. “So everything works out after all.” “Indeed. Still… I feel bad for putting you through all this, sir,” Hasey said. For the first time his smile faded and he lowered his arms. Truth be told, he looked genuinely remorseful. “I’m grateful beyond words for everything you’ve done for me. Never in a thousand years did I think I’d ever meet someone so charitable.” For a moment, Vik could do nothing but stare at Hasey with a troubled expression. Was he supposed to hate this boy for who he allegedly worked with? Could he ever really plot against or not defend a person so genuinely in trouble and so desperate for assistance? To forsake Hasey would go against everything Vik had ever been taught, from his father or his military training. He knew that for sure – but it still didn’t remove the fearful pit in the bottom of his stomach. His body recognized it as his instinct, and it was the same feeling that had rumbled and moved him during the fight with the Black Knight. ‘If I want to survive, I just might have to throw all of my previous life away.’ ***** “We told you that was a mistake.” Silverius’ eyes snapped open. At first, he didn’t remember a thing. His eyes looked straight forward to a black ceiling with tiny white spots on it. Where was he? The ceiling was so far ahead, so tall… The sky. He realized he was staring up at the sky, and he was outside. The ground was hard beneath him, likely the concrete of a street. All around him was darkness, more than was to be expected in an area where there was concrete. All the surrounding streetlights were off, he soon saw. Why was he outside? ‘Where am I?’ Just thinking was difficult at first, as if his mind was clouded by cobwebs he had to shake off. Someone had spoken to him. The mercenary sat up, allowing his hands to rub his tired, crusty eyes to a state of awareness. The voice had been familiar. Was it Maria? Where was she? Silverius squinted as he struggled to remember what happened before he had fallen asleep. Were they outside? All he could remember was an image of a beautiful sunset, and then tears… Painful tears that tore his heart apart. Whose tears were they? Why did thinking about them make his own eyes throb? He looked around and found the source of the voice. Silverius froze, his body losing its pallor instantly and his breath hitching in his throat. There, sitting cross-legged with a serious look, beneath an unlit streetlight with a sheathed sword in their lap, was Cidolas Teftah. Only – not. He looked different. He was alive… but he was different. The Cidolas Teftah sitting there staring at Silverius was decidedly a woman. Longer, somewhat wavier blond hair. A more rounded face and less sheer chin. Curvier shoulders and waist. Breasts. Fuller lips. Longer eyelashes. The same, emotionless, cold, and hard red eyes. Without a doubt, this was Cidolas Teftah… but not. As if she was reading his mind, Cidolas opened her mouth and spoke again. “We are Cidolas Teftah.” ‘We? Is this what he meant by saying “we” all the time?’ Silverius sat there for a long moment, his mouth slightly open, as he struggled to comprehend what he was seeing. No matter how he looked at it, this made no sense – of course, the two people could have been twins, but why did they share the same name? Why did they speak exactly the same? And how did this woman version of Cidolas know about his “grave mistake”? How could she possibly have known what the male Cidolas had said right before he died? In an instant, another question flashed into Silverius’ mind. He looked down and began to shake. Suddenly none of this Cidolas business mattered, not when the mercenary remembered exactly what had happened before he lost consciousness. With care not to look up or allow his heart to race, Silverius asked the mysterious woman the only question in his mind that had any significance. “Where is Maria?” “She was taken away by the Serpent Knights of Ouroboros. Rather, she chose to go with them without a fight.” Silence. Silverius’ eyes widened and he said nothing. Now his heart was out of his control. He was a trained mercenary and soldier, able to silence his body with just a thought so that he would have no trouble killing – but now, he couldn’t stop his heart from beating loud and fast, relentlessly, thundering within his chest and his ears. All he heard was his own heartbeat, and sniffles. Were those Maria’s sniffles? Was this the sort of pain she had been going through, when she was taken? How could that have happened? A drop of condensation fell into Silverius’ lap and pulled his focus back to the world around him. It was a tear that had fallen, from his own eyes. The sniffing he had heard were coming from himself. The mercenary slowly looked up to Cidolas with bloodshot eyes. “You knew she was going to be taken away?” Cidolas nodded carelessly. “We told you that you were making a grave mistake. We told you not to trust her.” “You knew she was going… Please tell me you went after her. Please, tell me you saved her…” “We did go after them.” Another pause. ‘Wait, seriously?’ That was not the answer Silverius had expected. “Where is she? Did you save her? Who was it that kidnapped her?” The blond woman looked him over with those chilling eyes of hers before reaching into her lap. From there she pulled from the ground something that was wrapped in dirty white canvas, something at least as big as her hand. Before Silverius could get a good look at the object, she flung it to him with incredible speed. The mercenary just barely had enough time to hold his hands up and catch the flying object out of reflex. As he looked down and started to unwrap the hard object, Cidolas continued to stare at him before speaking without a modicum of feeling. “We retrieved the object of interest.” There in Silverius’ hands, now unwrapped from the dingy canvas bandages that he realized were once wrapped around his right arm, was the sapphire Crystal that he had stolen barely a month ago. The ‘object of interest’ was the only thing that Cidolas had saved, and it was the one thing Silverius wished he could go without. Hatred pumped through his veins like blood, and instantly Silverius jumped up to action. His gunblade had been lying next to him, and he grabbed it with his right hand in the same moment he pounced toward the stationary blond enigma. The Crystal was still clutched tightly in his left hand. Hate – rage – with both of these fueling his every action, the mercenary moved faster than he ever had before, with the sole intent of gutting the irritating obstacle in front of him. Just as fast as he started to move, Silverius’ eyes widened and his reflexes forced him to stop. It was simply instinct that halted him a mere foot from his target, with even his swinging sword stopping halfway through its trajectory. As soon as he stopped moving, a skinny steel blade protruded forward. Cidolas had not moved except to unsheathe her sword and point it straight forward, right where Silverius’ throat would have been if he had stopped an instant later. She had moved with absolute calm and speed faster than his eyes could follow, even in response to Silverius’ incredible speed. Her speed and reflexes were effortlessly greater than his. She had an almost superhuman level of ability. Instantly defeated, Silverius lowered his arms and looked down to Cidolas with despair in his eyes. “You didn’t save her,” he said with hitched breath. His chest was starting to hurt, and his eyes began to sting. “You went after her, but all you bothered to rescue was the Crystal. The stupid Crystal…” “The Crystal is many times more important than an untrustworthy hostage. We acted on behalf of your safety, and the world’s.” “How could you say that? How can you sit there and talk like you knew her? You don’t know her… You never did! I know… I know what she really wanted…” Tears threatened to burst onto Silverius’ cheeks, so he clenched his eyes tightly shut. There, in the darkness behind his eyelids, he remembered Maria’s face in the last moment he saw her. She looked afraid, remorseful, and miserable. ‘That wasn’t her… That wasn’t a face Maria would make.’ He had seen her be happy, joyful, in awe, struck by the sublime, and full of love, but never as overwhelmed by despair and defeat as she had been in that second. ‘If I can’t see her smiling face, I wish I couldn’t see anything at all.’ Cidolas’ blade was still a fraction of an inch away from Silverius’ exposed throat. “We will be going to Straits City, now that the traitor has absconded. There we will meet with another Hero chosen by the Crystals.” ‘Stop calling her a traitor, you freak!’ Silverius opened his bloodshot eyes and stared at Cidolas from behind his own disheveled black bangs. “Why should I listen to a word you say?! I’m going to rescue Maria. Where did she go?” There, for just an instant, Silverius swore he could see Cidolas’ eyes twitching. She stood up slowly, her blade never moving from its position right in front of his adam’s apple. “You will listen to us because we saved your life. The Serpent Knight was going to kill you, and the traitor was going to watch it happen. We drove them off. We saved the Crystal. Now come with us, Hero of Wind. We are here to save you and the world.” Silverius stood statue-still, his hands trembling and his eyes hard. His heart still beat like a huge drum in his body, reverberating with his hatred. Rage. Determination. He nodded slowly at Cidolas. “This Serpent Knight… If I listen to you and meet with this other Hero or whatever, will I see them again?” “Yes,” Cidolas said with a nod. She lowered her blade, but did not sheathe it. Her body language was clear – she would not be lowering her guard and allowing him to strike at her. Not again. “You will find the Blood Knight again, and many more.” “Then I’ll go,” Silverius concluded. ‘I’ll kill that man – and you. I’ll rescue Maria myself.’ ***** Despite the urgings of his insides, Vik played along with Hasey Troblum and the ship arrived in Straits City within a few hours. The sun had set long ago, plunging the area in a dark violet natural darkness, but it was still hot enough to identify the region as southeastern Inusia – that fact, if anything else, sent relief down Vik’s spine. He walked down the ship’s gangplank with the snow-stained boots, cargo pants, and navy short-sleeve shirt that was the basics of casual Nneonian soldier wear. No coat, scarf, or long-sleeve was necessary here, even if this region of Inusia was not as warm as tropical Nneoh. Oddly, the captain of the ship said nothing to Vik and went so far as to make no contact besides a nod and a “thank you” as Vik handed him another dolarov coin. ‘Was that the work of Hasey, too?’ Vik wouldn’t put it past the youth. He had been unable to look at Hasey the same way after the Cradle incident, even without any substantial evidence. His instinct was enough to breed mistrust – but it wasn’t substantial enough for him to act. Not yet. Hasey walked slightly in front of Vik with a focused and determined look on his face, just as he did in North Norzaven. For some reason he still wore everything he wore in the tundra landscape, including Vik’s oversized fur coat. Forget being suspicious; the boy was downright nonsensical. ‘I can’t believe I ever trusted someone like this…’ “You seem like you know where you’re going,” he noted. Vik took his time walking behind Hasey, looking over the landscape of Straits City as he walked. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, though some parts of the streets looked a little seedy. “I know of this city,” Hasey replied. “It’s definitely familiar to me. I can get to my group’s dwellings here without a problem.” “Well, that’s good. Your memory problems cleared up nicely.” “I’m sure it came from a trauma or some sort.” Hasey put his hands into the pockets of his oversized winter coat. “Aren’t you hot? You’ll get another trauma if you keep walking around in that hot coat…” “Nope, not particularly. Winter isn’t far off anyway, Vik,” Hasey said with a look back and a smile. His normally flat eyes appeared to twinkle with amusement. “Aren’t you cold?” “Not at all,” Vik said with a frown. If anything, he felt quite hot. Was the sweat threatening to bud on his forehead from wariness, or the weather? “The climate isn’t important. You’re safe now, aren’t you?” Hasey nodded again, but kept his eye on Vik. “Yes. Your job is done, technically… but I feel awful, having dragged you halfway across the world like this.” “No, it’s fine. I needed an excuse to get out of Nneoh anyway.” Vik sighed. Although he was away from Nneoh, which worked perfectly with his abandonment of his job, getting back into the country wouldn’t be easy. And excluding Hasey, he had no leads on Ouroboros. ‘As much as I don’t want to… I can’t let this opportunity get away.’ The soldier looked up at Hasey fiercely. “You don’t mind if I make sure you get to your destination safely, do you? After all this mess, it’d be a waste if something happened to you so close to your own home base.” Once again Hasey nodded, with a hint of a smile on his face this time. “Of course! I’d like if you stuck around for a night or two, as well. I have to persuade my employers to give you a reward to get you back on your feet, Vik. There’s no way I can let you go without the proper gratitude. You’re way too considerate, worrying if I’ll get attacked like you did in Cradle. I am in a dangerous line of work, though…” Vik nodded sagely in agreement – and then froze. He processed Hasey’s words, went back over his own memory, and forced himself to hear the words of the boy in front of him once again. “...attacked like you did in Cradle.” Vik kept his walking normal and his hand over his horrified mouth, but could not hide his shock in the realization he made. Thankfully, Hasey had turned around at this point and started to whistle as he walked down the streets of Straits City. ‘I never told him that I was attacked in Cradle, let alone by a dangerous person. So how could he have known?’ That confirmed everything. Hasey knew that Vik was attacked, even when Vik had told no one. Sure, he was injured, but how could Hasey have known that he was hurt by a dangerous assailant? This put everything into place. Hasey had left just to get Vik alone, just so he could be attacked. Now that Vik had lived, he was likely leading him right to a trap in order to finish the job. Every step Vik took was one closer to death. The soldier halted and feigned a large yawn. “On second thought, do you think we could do all of that in the morning? It’s getting late and I’m still kind of tired from the trip here.” At his words, Hasey stopped and turned to look at Vik fully. For a moment, with his hands in the pockets of the oversized coat and his eyes partially hidden beneath his bangs, the boy gave off an air of ridiculously powerful wrath. Just as soon as it appeared, however, the aura vanished, and Vik stood watching the boy look him over. ‘Please believe me,’ the soldier pleaded in his mind. ‘He doesn’t know that I know, does he?’ After a second that felt like an hour, Hasey nodded and smiled. “Sure, that’s no problem. Would tomorrow morning be a better time, then?” Vik nodded slowly. That was still going to be a trap, without a doubt, but he couldn’t refuse without arousing suspicion. ‘More time is good, though.’ It gave him time to think of a plan, or at least to escape with a head start. If only escape was an option… “That’ll be fine,” Vik said uneasily. “Is around 10 am fine?” “Sounds good to me. 10 am in the central park. You can’t miss it, it’s right in the middle of town. Meet me by the edge of the clearing before the forest begins. That fine with you?” “No problems here.” Vik felt as if he were signing the contract allowing his death, and signing in blood at that. Hasey smiled with a nonchalant, carefree grin and nodded one final time. “See you tomorrow, then! Sleep tight, and get back safely!” He removed one of his hands to wave at Vik before walking at his normal pace down the dark Straits City streets. Despite the fact that his idea had worked per say, Vik couldn’t decide if he was truly saved or only postponing his demise. He was completely chilled and speechless even as he checked into a nearby hotel and locked himself in his room. The supply of money that he had taken from Nneoh was getting low, but not even this worrying fact was enough to shake him out of his daze. No matter what, Vik could only think of his fear. This was the same fear he felt when he faced the Black Knight, once in Nneoh and once in North Norzaven; now, it was given to him even by Hasey. What was there to do in the face of such power? The Black Knight had slaughtered all of his specially trained comrades, and by his own words he would not even be hit by a bullet. Who knew what Hasey could do? Who knew what kind of enemies Hasey would bring him? ‘No. This panicking isn’t getting me anywhere. I can’t let myself get off-track and end up walking to my death tomorrow…’ With a deep breath, Vik cleared his mind and sat on the only bed in his room. Absentmindedly, he snaked a hand into his backpack and held the Crystal inside of it. ‘First off, I need a plan.’ The former soldier made himself think of his situation as a whole. There was little doubt in his mind that Hasey had some connection to Ouroboros, and was likely very powerful. Vik wasn’t sure if Hasey knew Vik had the Crystal, or if Hasey even knew that Vik was onto him and Ouroboros, but it was best to assume that both of those conditions were met. It would be easiest to plan for the worst possible scenario. ‘That would be me going to the park tomorrow and being killed, and Ouroboros gets the Crystal.’ He didn’t know what they needed the jewel for or why Hasey had gone to such lengths to string him along, but Vik knew he couldn’t allow himself to be herded around anymore. Unfortunately, escape was no longer an option. There was a very good chance that he was being watched, and if he tried to escape he would be killed as soon as he walked away from the park, or at least before he could leave the city. He was trapped. There were only two real options for him to take. ‘Either I capture Hasey and gather information on the organization, or I somehow escape with my life.’ Both options were highly unlikely if Vik assumed that Hasey was at least as strong as the Black Knight – whose strength was incomprehensible enough to force Vik’s body to flee the scene. That encounter was like a hand being placed on a hot oven; it was impossible for a rational mind to justify not moving. ‘And I might be facing someone else like that tomorrow morning…’ Vik suspected that he had only escaped the Black Knight because he was allowed to. The entire encounter was probably set up and planned, considering Hasey’s choreographed escape. But now Vik was cornered in a city that likely had Ouroboros agents planted everywhere. There would be no escaping this time, not with the Crystal still in his possession. Losing that was unacceptable. Even then, Vik knew too much. No matter how he looked at it… there was no way he would be leaving alive. ‘I’m going to die here.’ He sat in somber stillness for a long time after this realization. Initially he considered finding a Datalog or a paycomm and speaking with his father one last time, but that would likely blow his cover and bring about unnecessary complications. No, Vik was going to die alone here, hundreds of miles away from his home and his family. It was strangely peaceful, knowing that… for the most part. Somewhere, deep inside, Vik couldn’t accept this. ‘I can’t die. Not yet… Not yet!’ The former Nneonian soldier blinked back tears, and for a split second, he saw his comrades in the darkness behind his eyelids. Private Malenpaa, Lieutenant Titon, Sergeant Fifero, Commander Hahto… All of his friends from the disbanded Zettai Herohji special operations squad, looking down on him from wherever they were now. Vik remembered them. He nodded to himself and rubbed away a tear that had been budding in his right eye. The scar left on his temple throbbed, and as Vik rubbed it with a stray finger, he accepted the newfound determination that his vision had brought to him. ‘That’s right. I can’t die, not yet. I’m doing this for my friends! I can’t hesitate here!’ The sun was rising. Vik stood up and started to gather his things. As he had been endlessly turning and reevaluating his thoughts, the entire night passed him by. That was fine; Vik felt as rested as ever, if not more energetic than he was before. ‘I won’t lose. I’ll face that boy and do whatever it takes to take Ouroboros down.’ Whether he had to fight or outsmart Hasey Troblum, Vik wasn’t going to let himself fail. There would be no more hesitation. Nneonian Lieutenant Colonel Hyusei left the room and walked down the inn’s stairs with his chin up and his lips in a tight frown. Though it was securely zipped in his backpack, the Crystal seemed to radiate heat right into the small of Vik’s back, keeping his posture powerful and his moral high. That was surely an illusion or a result of sleep exhaustion, but Vik would take whatever he could get. With a nod to the bartender cleaning the trashed common room, Vik left the inn and squinted from the bright sun as it blinded him for but a second. When he opened his eyes again, there was a long silver blade pointed right at his throat. Vik froze. “Take one more step and you’ll die where you stand.” ...End of Part Ten. <- Previous Page | Main Page | Next Page ->